Alone
by Alkemy das Bootas
Summary: <html><head></head>Roxas is insane, or so he is often told.But HE knows. knows that there is something beyond these strange dreams, these memories... but when these dreams start to invade reality, will the others help him? or will he face this conflict...Alone?</html>


**A scattered dream that's like a far off memory…**

**A far off memory that's like a scattered dream.**

**I want to line the pieces up.**

**Yours and mine.**

_A boy in red sits on the beach watching the sunset. With him, two others lay, waiting for the night to arrive. The Boy smiles and looks at the girl next to him, as she dissipates, like sand in the wind, and blows away. He averts his gaze back to the sunset as a white haired boy-no, young man- follows suit of the girl. The boy's eyes become suddenly excited and he jumps from his comfortable position into the ocean. Or so it would seem, as the boys lush island paradise falls into the same fate as his previous companions; disappearing into sand, into nothing. He falls from the white nothing that envelops him onto a floating, gray platform with two new companions; an anthropomorphic duck holding what appear to be a magical wand, and a dog holding a shield of some sort. Again, the boy's eyes change, this time into determination. A strange item appears in his hands; something not quite like a key and not quite like a sword, and he glances around him. He appears to be surrounded by waterfalls, and in front of him lays a castle, twisted and demented with the passing of ages. Suddenly, blackness like the darkest of darkness appears and manifest into tiny little beasts, filled to the brim with hatred and despair. They twitch and shake, their tiny black bodies swaying to and fro. Their yellow eyes sight him in unison, and the boy accepts the challenge. Jumping up, him and his odd looking comrades attack and defeat the beasts, pressing onwards to the deranged castle. Once inside, the boy sees his friend from the beach, the red haired girl, lying on the floor. Alive or dead, he cannot tell. He rushes to her side and slowly takes her in his arms. He shakes her, looking for a response. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices the young man, also from the beach. He turns to face the boy in red, and reaches out a hand to him. The world suddenly changes into their quaint beach home, with a massive, consuming tsunami swiftly approaching. The boy runs at him, his brown hair being pushed back by the wind. Suddenly, flashes. In one flash, he's running toward the young man at sea, trying to warn him of the coming danger. In another, he is running at him with a killing intent inside the hollow bastion, wanting nothing more than to strike him down. It ends when he attacks his white haired former companion, who dodges the blow with a jump backwards. When he lands, however, he is not himself. He is someone else, someone older, and someone more sinister. He is wearing a dark cloak and hood, but quickly sheds it to reveal a man with sliver hair and tan skin. The boy in red strikes him, and with that a large, beautifully constructed door closes, ejecting a light too powerful to look at directly. The former companion is back to normal, smiling on the other side of the door. He says something incoherent, and is gone behind the closed door. The boy has no time to think, however, as a strange light emits from his chest, and he and the girl are together again…. _

Roxas awakes, groggy and aggravated. He glances around before he realized what had happened. "Again!" He mumbles angrily. He has been having this dream over and over again for the last few weeks, and it was cutting into his thought process lately. The dream came in segments, some finishing where others left off, connecting lose plot lines, or even being completely unrelated to each other. That last one wasn't entirely true, however. All the dreams no matter what their plot or when in the whole scheme of the dream sequence, stared the boy in red. The brown haired, blue eyed boy in red. _His name…_ Roxas thought, staring intently at his ceiling (the only clean part of his room_) what the hell is his name?_ _And why does he always seem so… familiar? Like I've… met him before? _Roxas quickly dismissed the thought; He had only ever been out of his hometown, Twilight Town, to go to the beach over summer vacation with his friends, and in that time never had he once met someone worth remembering. _Worth dreaming about…._ Roxas forced it out of his head for the time being. He had been mulling it over in his head for long enough, and the only time he could really forget about it was in the shower. He quickly hoped into the shower, and once he was all done and dressed, he ran a hand through his messy blonde hair. Always in perfect condition, no matter what he went though. "Just like the boy…." He mumbled wearily as he looked in the mirror, noticing the bags under his eyes caused by his inability to get a good night's sleep. When you have the same dream (or fragments of it) for a few weeks, you began to notice different aspects of it, such as the boys brown hair. It was messy, messier that Roxas's, but always managed to look the same. _Even under water…_ Roxas thought, recalling another, loosely connected dream about the boy. He glanced at his calendar and sighed in defeat. His refusal to believe that summer vacation was coming to an end had been destroyed, as the calendar proclaimed only seven days remained of the holy, three month long festival of youth. He dashed out of his room, skipping breakfast as he tried to piece the dream back together in his tired, tired mind. He ran down the street and entered the Usual Spot to greet his friends.

As he entered the usual spot, he saw that the gang was all there. Heiner sat, one leg up to his chest, on the tattered old couch they but on the side of the room, throwing darts at a dart board. He seemed to be thinking deeply, and as the unofficial leader of the group, his hot headed way of thinking wasn't always a positive thing. Pence was sitting on the couch as well, cross legged and watching his friend. He was the heftiest of the group and not so physically addled, but made up for it with his sense of humor. He always had the group in stitches. Well, everyone but Roxas. Roxas had, lately, been much more reserved, quite, his friends would say depressed. It hadn't started with the dreams, though. He always felt… out of sorts. Different. Somehow… alone. His friends took mind to this, especially Olette. Olette was the only female of the group, and much more intelligent school wise. Always the first to point out obvious flaws in the harebrained schemes of Heiner, she was rightfully considered the 'smart one'. She walked over to Roxas and gave a small smile.

"Hey, Roxas. How'd you sleep?" She said concern in her voice. She was the most concerned with his growing antisocial/insomniac ways. Pence merely passed it off as sleepiness, and Heiner never really concerned himself with it. "Still having those dreams, huh?"

"Um, yeah…yeah, it was the one… the one with the white haired kid…." He replied, softly and awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head and averting his eyes. He always felt insecure when being questioned on the dreams. He felt it was his problem to deal with, and making others worry always upset him. This was partially to blame when it came to his growing resistance to public events. "I'm fine, really." The sadness in his voice, the bags in his eyes and the shake in his voice all betrayed that statement. Roxas walked passed her, looking down at his shoes and refusing to say more. He landed softly on the couch next to Pence, who looked at him and smiled, before returning to Heiner's game of darts. Heiner refused to look at Roxas. Olette looked at him, concerned, and bit her lip. She could easily make out when he was lying to her.

"Roxas…" Olette started. "Have you ever considered getting help? I mean, this kind of thing isn't normal. "The boy in red, the island, those weird animal….things that-"

"Donald and Goofy." Roxas said blankly. "Their names are Donald and Goofy." He kept looking down as he said that, and Olette sighed. "Sorry, I… didn't mean to interrupt you." He said, eyes closed as he rubbed his temple. "It's just… I've been having some weird thoughts lately, like…" He got up and began to pace to the other end of the small room. "Is any of this real? Or is it just-

"Damn it, Roxas!" Heiner shouted, chucking the last of the darts at the board. They all missed, horribly, and landed with a thud on the wall behind. "I've been quite for a long time now, man. But I just gotta say this; enough is e-fucking-nough! Your always bitching about this or that dream, talking about all this 'whose the boy in red' crap, and now you're giving these animal things names, like it's some kinda deep, sensitive thing you got goin on here, but it's NOT. People have dreams, Roxas. _Weird_ dreams that usually don't make sense. You gotta stop looking for meaning in these things. You won't find it." He ended with a huff and glared at his friend. They were friends, but Heiner reasoned that they ALL had things on their minds, particularly the end of summer, and he was just too vocal about them. He didn't realize that, for Roxas, these dreams weren't really dreams at all. They were real, and his depression fueled him to question their meanings.

"…Its not, they aren't dreams, their like… memories I've forgotten, and now I remember." Roxas replied quietly.

"Look, Roxas, maybe they are just nothing, maybe it's all… Y'know, in your head?" Pence suggested in a friendly matter.

Roxas was silent, and looked at the ground. It seemed like the sleep he had been eluding had finally caught up with him, and instead of making him tired, it made him… made him what? Not sleepy but, something else. Dreamy. _They all think I'm insane, but I know I'm not. Their something to these dreams, these memories. But what? And what is the boy's name? If I could just get that…_ The name of the anthropomorphic animals had suddenly come to Roxas at Olette's mention of them. He didn't remember learning them, all he knows is that he knows now, maybe knew all along. But the Boy! His name was all Roxas needed, he didn't understand why, but felt he and the boy were connected, similar.

"Ah, Alright, listen. You can keep with your little dream problems, Roxas, but I'm goin out and enjoying what's left of our summer" Heiner said heroically, standing up and walking to the door of the Usual Spot, fashioned out of two old curtains Pence's parents had laying around. "You guys comin? We got the Struggle tournament coming up, and If were gonna beat Seifer's gang we better start some series training, you got that?" And with that he left. The others stood and followed him, eager to ready themselves for the coming battle with Seifer, the local thug and low-life. He and his gang were always up to no good, and the struggle tournament was the perfect opportunity to put them in their place. As the others hurriedly followed Heiner, Roxas trailed behind, slowly.

After they had trained and dispersed, Roxas went on his way home. The moon hung lazily in the sky and it seemed to emit a light duller than usual. He walked slowly down the cobblestone pathway that led to his house. The entire way home, he felt… _watched_. When he was almost home, and he couldn't stand the horrendous feeling of paranoia, he turned around on his heels and screamed "Is someone there?" When his only answer was the wind blowing lightly on the rooftops above, he turned slowly and started home again. However, as soon as he turned around, _**'THUD'**_, He collided with something with texture like concrete. _What the hell?_ He thought as he stepped back and looked at his obstacle. What he saw there frightened him beyond anything he had ever experienced before. "You…" Roxas's words quivered as he felt nothing but fear and confusion consume his mind. "Y-y-your…f-from the d-dream…!" He stated, his eyes wide, stepping away and pointing a shaking finger at the figure in a dark cloak and hood. _Exactly like from my dream!_ Roxas thought anxiously. Through the pale moonlight he can make out the figure lifting its hand slowly and dragging it across its chest. From there, golden, beautiful crafted letters appear, floating and luminescent, and began to shift into something legible.

-*-THE-*- CLOCK-*- TOWER-*-

Roxas looked, terrified at the hooded figure, whose face he couldn't see. "What…what do you mean?" Roxas stared at the figure, but as a minute went by and nothing happened, his fear turned into hysteria. "What the hell do you mean! What is all this, the-the dreams, and the-"He is cut off by a quick blow to the side of the face. He flew backwards a few feet and landed with a thud. He glanced up, his left side stinging with the freshness of the strike. The figure stood there, just as calmly as before. This time, however, it raised its hands, and lowered its hood. The young man with the white hair, the one who was friends with the boy in red, was under the hood, but something was different. He had a black bandana tied around his eyes, and his hair was longer. He seemed older, more jaded than in the dreams…

Roxas twitched slightly when he heard him speak. It was low, almost inaudible. "Wha…What are you saying? What does all this mean?" Roxas shouted at the boy, rising to his feet as he did so.

"Give…Him….BACK!" The white haired boy shouted, lunging at Roxas with all his might. Roxas was certain he would soon be dead, and had no time to even think about all the questions running through his head. Why was he wearing the same cloak as the man from my dreams? Why was he the same boy from my dreams? Why did he attack me? Who was he referring to? What was at the clock tower? All these questions went unanswered, and before Roxas new it, his consciousness was fading out into whiteness…

"..Uhnn…" Roxas groaned as he sat up. He was in bed, had been for a while apparently. He was even in his pajamas, although the last thing he remembered was the boy with white hair attacking him. "Ri…Ri…"he mumbled, trying to recall the boy's name. _No, not recall,_ Roxas thought. _I've never even met him before….have i? _Roxas glanced at his calendar. Six more days of summer vacation left. He sighed, got up, and started running the shower. Time to get ready for a new day.

_XXXXX_

**A/N.- Okay, here it is. My first ever fiction written that doesnt entirely discust me. Oh well, id apreasiate (speeling falliure) some feedback, as this is my first fic. Reviews are open, so if your reading this, you can write a review. i have a pretty good idea of where this is going, but sugguestions are always welcome. PLEASE review, it lets me know if youd like me to continue, and is a REAL confidence boost.**

**See ya next time, hopefuly!**


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